Surviving Christmas Page #5

I get anxiety...

No, no. You stop talking. Mom?

Drew wants a family Christmas,

so we're gonna be his family.

- That's insane.

- Tell me about it.

I never had a sister,

so this is bullshit right here.

Okay. You are my

illegitimate love child.

- Mom!

- And you had no idea about her.

That could be good.

You know what?

- She could be the maid!

- Okay. Enough.

Hey, my baby's home.

- Hi, Daddy.

- How are you, Lissi?

Hi. I'm good.

You've obviously lost your mind.

Can I talk to you

in the dining room, please?

You knew about this?

- Stay away from my daughter.

- Okay, Mom?

- This guy is obviously crazy.

- I know.

So, I'm gonna go upstairs,

and take a bath,

and when I wake up in the morning,

he's gonna be gone, right?

Maybe.

I'm not gonna be a good sport

about this, Mom.

Oh, darling, we'd never

expect you to be.

Thanks.

Come on, Mom!

It's tree time!

Okey-dokey.

All right.

We're back on track.

Yeah.

Okay.

Here we go.

One, two, three!

Now it feels like Christmas.

I can smell

my eyeballs burning.

Very important.

Don't look directly at the tree.

- Brian!

- What?

Wake up!

It's your brother, kind of!

It's snowing outside!

It's a snow day!

Why are you waking me up?

I don't want you

to miss the fun, man!

What fun?

Oh! Facial! Iceball!

Whoo! Ha ha!

Look out! Oh!

Right in the nuts!

In the nuts!

- I can't feel my toes.

- Here he comes.

The look of vengeance.

Eye of the tiger.

Oh, oh.

Now he's getting furious.

Whoo! Whoo!

Whoo!

- What's up, Tom?

- Brian, go inside.

See you later, Bri.

It was fun.

You like throwing snowballs?

I was just havin' a good time.

You know.

Yeah. Throw one at me.

That's cool.

Don't worry about it.

We're kinda finished now.

Come on.

Like you said, it'll be fun.

It's getting a little chilly.

I don't wanna bother.

- Don't worry about it.

- Ah, come on. Throw it.

All right, I'll throw one,

I'll throw one.

Good one.

Now it's my turn.

No!

That was great.

Any time you wanna do that,

let me know.

We said no iceballs, man.

Oh, did we?

Morning, Mom.

Freak.

You know what?

We may have gotten off

on the wrong track.

We should start over.

- Here you go, Drew.

- Thanks, Mom.

- Mmm.

- Problem?

My real mom puts marshmallows

in the hot chocolate.

Know what I was thinking?

If you don't wanna play my sister,

maybe you could be, like,

a wonderful, mysterious

Ecuadorean cleaning lady.

You know?

Or Swedish cleaning lady.

The ethnicity's not important.

But cleaning lady's good.

Oh. Mmm.

What?

My real mom used the

mini-marshmallows. Sorry.

Speaking of your mom, why aren't you

annoying your own family?

That's not really your business,

is it, Consuela?

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